I'm here. Sort of. Sometimes. And I need to write.
So not because I think anyone is wondering, but rather, to remind my own ragged self--
I will tell you about tomatoes and swimming pools and ABA therapy and furloughs and old crap traded for new crap that is really just all the same crap...
I will. I promise.
Please Play Nicely
(the children are watching)
Who me?
- lah
- When old friends find out where I am and what I'm doing, they say things like, "No, really, is she dead?" Far more likely than these deep south days consumed by the chaos, havoc and shine of autism and misaligned motherhood. Not enough Havoc? Insufficient Shine? Try Autiesmama over at Twitter. No promises--I'm just trying for bedtime w/o bloodshed.
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